


Bad Movie Night

by irlenolacroix



Series: the two-part adventures of michael and jeremy: repressed feelings edition [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Christine Canigula (mentioned) - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Squip, Touch-Starved, aka jeremy and michael are losers who can't just admit their feelings, also michael has poor circulation, and jeremy is a bi dork, jeremy and christine are still friends don't worry, michael is a gay dork, post- jeremy and christine breakup, so he is always very cold, they deserve each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 16:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11559060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlenolacroix/pseuds/irlenolacroix
Summary: In which Jeremy and Michael try to rekindle their old friendship by watching notoriously horrible movies together. Michael is very, very cold, and is wondering just how good a blanket Jeremy might be. Jeremy is having some thoughts of his own.Originally posted on my tumblr, spaceykiid.





	Bad Movie Night

"I'm cold."

"Dude, it's the middle of May and my air conditioning is shit."

"And...your point?"

Michael had his arms pulled into his jacket. He was curled into a ball on one end of Jeremy's couch. It was nine P.M. "Battlefield Earth" was playing in the background. Jeremy and Michael's "bad movie night" tradition had fizzled away during their freshman year due to the newfound stress of high school, but they'd rekindled it in light of recent events to "strengthen the bromance", as Michael had put it.

Each of them had thought, at least once, that they might just be looking for excuses to be near each other. Neither really seemed to mind that. Neither wanted to mention it, either.

Jeremy shifted his position a little, his eyes moving to Michael. He suppressed a laugh. "You okay?"

Michael's voice was muffled by the top of his jacket. "Cold."

"You're always cold."

"Poor circulation. You know this, Jeremy."

Jeremy looked Michael up and down, studying his position. "You, uh, want me to turn the air down...?"

Michael sighed and pulled his face out of his jacket. "Nah, it's chill."

"I can get a blanket or something."

"Dude, it's all good." Michael attempted to use one of his jacket-submerged elbows to adjust his glasses, but ended up knocking them even more off-balance. "Though it'd be pretty damn nice to re-gain the use of my arms."

"There is no way you're that cold."

"There is a way, and it's called 'Michael is that cold because his body hates him'."

"And you're suuuuure you don't want a blanket or anything?"

Michael attempted, again, to adjust his glasses. They only ended up a little more crooked. "Wouldn't help that much, anyways. I'll live."

Jeremy let himself chuckle at Michael's glasses misfortune. "Suit yourself, man."

"Suiting." Michael looked a little disgruntled, but was smiling just enough for Jeremy to see.

Some quiet followed that. John Travolta took up the screen. Michael could really only see out of one eye at this point, but that one eye was enough when he looked over towards Jeremy. The distance between them was almost tangible. It was only a few inches, not all that far at all, but Michael could pretty much physically feel it. It wasn't like a wall; it would be so easy for Michael just to move over and close that gap. Would only take a few seconds, really, he reasoned. And it wouldn't be that weird, would it? It isn't weird to cuddle—no, not cuddle, gently lean against—your best friend when you're cold. Chloe and Brooke did it all the time. And Michael really was cold as all fuck. He wasn't lying about that.

But he didn't move. Not quite yet. He cleared his throat a little and forced himself to look away. Staring and hoping wouldn't really help him out here.

"I saw Christine yesterday."

Michael looked up. "Yeah, you texted me."

"Oh."

"How was it?"

"It was good!" Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. "It was nice to see her again."

Michael shifted closer to Jeremy. Just slightly. Just enough. "Was it, like, awkward at all?"

"Surprisingly, no." Jeremy shook his head and leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. "I mean, a tiny bit at first? But soon enough we were both comfortable again, I think. We had a good time. I missed seeing her."

Michael felt a tiny stab in his chest as he asked the next question. "Do you wish you were still together?"

Jeremy took in a breath. Closed his eyes. "I've thought about that a lot, actually..." He sat back straight and looked over at Michael. "I mean, I don't think I do. It was good while it lasted, but I could kinda tell she wasn't really into it the way I was? And I just..." His words trailed off. "I dunno. I think we work better as friends." He blinked, as if remembering something. "I mean, I'm glad it happened! I really am, I'm thankful as hell for it. And for her. She's a great person."

Michael couldn't tell whether his heart was rising or sinking. "That's good!" He attempted to push his glasses up again, and they ended up falling off into his lap. "I—shIT—I'm glad you two are friends again."

Jeremy snickered into the back of his hand as Michael tried to use his shoulder to put his glasses back on. "I'm glad too. Hey, uh– can you hold still for a second?"

"Why?"

"Just quit wiggling." 

Michael complied. Jeremy reached over and, ignoring the wobbling feeling in his chest, put Michael's glasses back on his face. Straightened them up a little. Maybe, just maybe, one of his hands brushed through Michael's hair. 

"There." Jeremy leaned back, admiring his work. Michael's glasses weren't perfectly straight, but they were there. Michael's face emanated heat. Jeremy leaned forward, straightened the eyewear a little, and murmured, "You don't feel cold."

Michael felt his heart quiver inside his body. "Feel my hands if you don't believe me."

"Your hands are inside your jacket."

"Give me a second." Michael struggled with his clothes for a moment before pulling his arms out of his sleeves, shivering visibly as he did so. He held his hands towards Jeremy.

Jeremy's hands were warmer and softer than Michael's. They both had calloused thumbs from too many long nights playing video games, but Michael had the hands of a ukulele player, soft in the centers and hard around the edges. Jeremy's hands were still teenage boy hands, but they were warm. Smooth. Gentle. Michael had to consciously resist lacing together their fingers.

Jeremy's thumbs rubbed the backs of Michael's hands, slowly, almost curiously. "Man," he murmured, "your hands are fucking freezing."

"That's what I've been telling you."

"Are they always this cold?"

"Pretty much."

Jeremy hesitated. His face lightened with consideration and decision. "Here." He let go of Michael's hands to hold out his arms. "I'm warm. Lean into me and I'll be your human blanket." He paused, coughing, and said "Your bro-ket. Like a blanket, but your bro."

Michael noticed how red Jeremy's face was and was almost tempted to comment on it when he realized his own must be a similar hue. "Jer, I'm gonna crush your skinny twig body."

"No, you won't, you fell asleep on my lap while we were smoking in your basement once, remember?"

Michael somehow went even hotter in the face. "N....no...?"

Jeremy gave an anxious smile and nodded towards himself. "Well, basically, uh, don't worry about hurting me. I'll be fine. Just c'mere, you're gonna freeze to death."

Michael hesitated for only a few seconds. Anxiety only held him back for a little bit before he decided that it wasn't worth it. Jeremy was actively inviting this contact. It wasn't worth worrying about, and besides, he couldn't pretend he hadn't been kinda secretly hoping for this the entire time.

When Michael leaned into Jeremy, the relaxation was instant. All over, he felt like he had melted completely. The racing in his heart was still there, but it was duller now, lulled and muffled by comfort. His head found itself on Jeremy's chest. Jeremy's heart was beating at about the same rate as Michael's. They felt almost synchronized.

"You–" Jeremy cleared his throat and swallowed. "You warm now, Mike?"

Michael gave a tiny nod. "Yeah."

Jeremy's hand moved just a little to wrap around to Michael's left shoulder blade. He lightly moved his hand up and down over it; calming, repetitive. "Good to know," he said, quieter now.

Michael closed his eyes for just a second. When they opened again, "Battlefield Earth" was still on. It almost felt like that was taking place in another world. The contact with Jeremy felt so damn good and he regretted not being able to ask for it sooner. He felt safe. Protected. Like nobody could hurt either of them; like he would never hurt again.

Fuck, Michael was completely in love.

Jeremy moved his arm that had been stroking Michael's shoulder blade to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Michael didn't protest. He pulled himself closer to Jeremy as well, pressing against the other young man until the concept of "closer" didn't exist. Michael's legs curled up beside him, and his body straightened so his head could rest against Jeremy's shoulder. His own right arm managed to slide around Jeremy's thin waist. Their hearts could almost feel each other. Their lungs inflated and deflated in time with one another.

Jeremy's eyes wandered to Michael every few seconds, and he realized just how easy it would be to steal a tiny little kiss on Michael's lips right now. Just one.

Michael was having the same thought, and he was lightly biting his lower lip to keep himself from acting on it. He couldn't let himself look over at Jeremy.

"Michael?"

Michael gave into his urge and turned to look at Jeremy. "Yeah?"

And for a moment Jeremy was ready to say everything. How he'd started realizing while he was with Christine that maybe she wasn't the only person he looked at that way. How his breakup with Christine both hurt him to the core and felt, almost, like a relief, a weight off his shoulders. How much he'd realized he liked being around Michael. How soft Michael's lips looked. How he still remembered kissing Michael under the playground slide when they were ten, and never mentioning it again, and how he wondered if Michael still remembered that. How he really, really wanted to know if Michael felt fluttery and soft and starry-eyed and shaky-minded around him, like he felt around Michael. How he was probably in love. How he just wanted to hold Michael close like this forever, and never let go, because it felt so damn good.

But the moment passed soon, and Jeremy was quickly washed over with a wave of anxiety and "I can't do this" and fears of rejection. The words trapped themselves in his throat and he was left open-mouthed and red-faced.

"Nothing," he choked out, making himself look away. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

The screen faded to black. The credits rolled. Neither boy moved to take the DVD out of the player.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a gay little thing that took me like. three days because i kept procrastinating it  
> PLEASE leave comments and let me know if i should keep writing these Boys™
> 
> EDIT: OKOK a lot of y'all are rightfully angry that they didn't kiss (i'm such a cruel author please forgive me i'm horrible) SO!!! please let me know if you would like a sequel to this!!!! i really value y'all's feedback (no matter how angry you are abt the ending, i am so sorry) and i am seriously considering giving you guys a sequel ❤️❤️


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